


Diary of a Blue Spy

by Not_Jazz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Dark, Humor, Matt will show up later, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Resistance Fighter Shay, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Sniper Lance (Voltron), Spies, Stereotypes, Voltron General Big Bang 2017, World War II, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:54:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Jazz/pseuds/Not_Jazz
Summary: Dear Journal,                                                                                               	June 20, 1943I can’t believe I made it. This is like, the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. Ever. In my whole life! This is even better than kissing that girl from the beach, what was her name, Maryanne? Oh who cares, I’m a pilot!If only I could tell Mama. But after all those stupid “Private Snafu” cartoons and, “Watch What You Write!” shit, I don’t even want to try. So, instead, I’m going to write in this journal so I don’t forget all the exciting parts to tell Mama and everyone when I get back. I don’t want to forget a thing!I promise to tell you everything I can. From that stupid-head Keith, to my new friends, and maybe a secret mission here and there.- Lance "Blue Paladin" Sanchez-McClain





	1. The Pilot

Dear Journal,                                                                                                June 20, 1943

        I can’t believe I made it. This is like, the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. Ever. In my whole life! This is even better than kissing that girl from the beach, what was her name, Maryanne? Oh who cares, I’m a pilot!

        If only I could tell Mama. But after all those stupid “Private Snafu” cartoons and, “Watch What You Write!” shit, I don’t even want to try. So, instead, I’m going to write in this journal so I don’t forget all the exciting parts to tell Mama and everyone when I get back. I don’t want to forget a thing!

        Anyway, after the first month of training, I think I got this routine down no problem. Get up early, do some drills, then to flight classes, then test piloting. I’m really lucky only one time the planes nearly crashed. Well, twice, but it was only my fault once!

        My radio officer is Private Gunderson, or just Pidge. He stays behind me and watches my back, while also listening to command. They’re really smart though. I have no idea why they aren’t in a different division. Maybe cause they’re so small?

        Then we have our mechanic, Private Hunk Garrett. Hunk is my best man. He can fix anything. He once fixed our plane mid-flight. It was amazing, yet terrifying. Unfortunately, he has a weak stomach and vomited in front of the commander after. That didn’t go well.

        Then there’s my main competition, Keith Kogane. He is the top pilot here, and has no real team cause of it. He is really good—but he’s also an asshole! He doesn’t give anyone the time of day.

        Although, I guess I can kind of get it? I mean, the other boys keep asking if he wants rice or other dumb shit like that.

        And if they ask me how come I “speak good English” I will rip them apart I swear!

        I worked too hard to learn English, and speak without an accent, for their dumb stereotypes. I’m just as patriotic as any of those assholes.

        …I don’t know how I got so off topic.

        Well, we’ll be shipping out in a few days, against Commander Iverson’s wishes. He says that we’re, “some no good kids,” that don’t know their lefts from rights (It only happened one time!) and should stay grounded.

        But, it’s a war. The Krauts are still in control of most of Europe, and no one knows how we’re gonna sneak in. Or, at least I don’t know.

        To be honest, Journal, I was hoping that the war would be over by the time I came of age to be drafted. Mama had the biggest tears in her eyes when I got the letter to come in for a physical.

        “First they take Marco, and now they’re taking another son,” she cried to Papá, “Who are they going to take next, Benito?”

        Papá had given a small laugh, “He’s only thirteen, Maria. And Marco is okay, and with our prayers, so will Lance, right?”

        And so, with a wing and a prayer, here I am.

        With this weird mixed group of men, the last resorts of pilots, heading towards Europe for a war started by brainwashed people.

        But hey, who knows. Maybe this was all in God’s plan to finally let me be able to fly.

       

   Night,

Private Lance Sanchez-McClain

P.S. I named my plane Blue!

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                            June 25, 1943

        Remember when I said we’d be shipping out soon?

        Apparently that meant ass crack of dawn.

As of right now, we have just arrived in North Africa. I’m not sure which country, if only because it’s way too fucking early (or late?). It was a long flight with only one quick fuel check. And Pidge and Hunk were lucky enough to sleep through parts of the flight. Guess I’m lucky I get to fly and saw all the lights on the ground but still. Too damn early.

And we were still forced to pitch our own tents before sleeping! Damn army rules.

Okay, I’m going to sleep. Tomorrow is just drills and drills until Patton or whoever gets a plan.

Night,

Lance “too tired to think” Sanchez-McClain

 

 

* * *

 

 Dear Journal,                                                                                                          July 4, 1943

        Happy 4th of July from the fucking desert.

        What a way to be celebrating our nation by fighting for it in this desert wasteland.

        Well, not really wasteland. There’s the military base—which is basically a bunch of god damn tents—and when flying over, I’m pretty sure I can see a town.

        The Commander says we’ll be invading Sicily soon (and as we learned, soon could mean tomorrow or a month from now). We’re calling the invasion “Operation Husky.” And god, I really hope so. This heat is bad for my face and skin.

        Keith picked a fight with the commanding officer here yesterday. Said something about not doing enough, and what happened to one of the different units?

        I know I heard the name Takashi Shirogane, though. One of the Ace pilots in the Japanese-American U.S. Army units. He was a huge deal, cause he was so good they put him on one of the…I guess regular units? The whole system is weird.

        But he and three other soldiers went missing about a year or so ago. It was talked about on the radio, and had a small column about it in the “Stars and Stripes.”

        But as to why Keith was shouting about it, I had no idea.

        When Pidge was about to get involved, Hunk and I both pulled him down.

        Then of course the officer turned to us, “Do you have anything to add, Private?”

        And I covered, all like, “Nope, not at all officer. We’re just discussing the uh…lovely weather, right Hunk?”

        “Yep, lovely and uh…dry.”

        The officer had huffed, “As I thought. And you, Private Kogane, you better keep your damn mouth shut if you don’t want to be court martialed.”

        And that seemed to shut Keith up. Which…good! He’s always being jerk…though…it wasn’t right for him to be yelled at for asking. What if he and Shirogane were like, best friends? If Hunk were missing I’d ask around.

        No, no, no!

        Bad thoughts. Nope.

        Anyway, Pidge seemed mad at us for stopping them, so when out of our grip they ran to Keith, and started to talk about the failed mission.

        I didn’t want to intrude, so I just let them be and went back to playing cards with Hunk. Hopefully we get some V-disks in soon. Some music might lighten the mood.

        After that excitement, I wrote a small post card for Mama, did some more drills, and then we watched a film on sexual diseases.

        Fun times.

        Well, that’s all for tonight journal. Night,

       

        Lance Sanchez-McClain

* * *

 

       

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                            July 20, 1943

        Sorry it’s been so long, journal. But we’ve been flying non-stop since Operation Husky (if curious, journal, it started on the 9th…or 10th…wait is the same day the same here as it is in Miami? What are time zones even). All of the Airforce has been up around the clock, covering our and the other Allies men. It’s fucking exhausting.

        The bonus of flying, though, is we don’t get as dirty.

Oh, and seeing less combat, in a sense.

Like, since we’re stationed by the medical unit, we see bodies pouring in like a constant stream. Missing toes, limbs, guts; it’s all very gross.

Yesterday, when flying back, Private Thomson came out covered in blood. One of German pilots got his co-pilot. Right in the head, as they were flying.

Hunk thinks I’m shell shocked. I don’t think so, though. I just...sometimes need to sit down and just not think. Just let the whole world go away and think about Veradera beach and the waves. Just anything but the constant streaming of bombing and gun shots.

But that’s normal.

        What isn’t normal is Keith’s insistence that we need to move faster and get the jump on the Nazi’s. It’s like the man never sleeps! Like, what is the rush? Germans will be there today and tomorrow and the next day. No real rush necessary.

        Ha, wouldn’t it be nice if the Germans were just like, “Sorry for all the trouble, we’ll just be out of here.”

        But nope. Here we are, in some…place. Fighting, bombing…crying.

        Pidge has been going through the Officers tent trying to find out plans and stuff. He thinks that there’s a better way to be doing this invasion. Although, I don’t actually think that’s what he’s looking for.

        I only guess that, though, because some of the papers he stole are troop lists. He’s highlighted the name “Matt Holt,” and “Voltron Project,” with question marks.

        Hunk thinks I shouldn’t be spying on him. But we’re both curious, and besides drills and fighting there isn’t much else to do.

        Hunk did fix our record player though. The whole unit was ecstatic.

        The guys and I were joking about finding some nice Italian girls to bring to camp. We could have a whole party.

        One or the guys joked, “You speak Spanish, right? Why not try and pick up some of those Italian girls for us? They’re like the same language, right?”

        And I just…was he serious? Sure, I’d love to pick up any girl—who wouldn’t say yes to this handsome face?—but they are two different languages! Seriously.

        Well, I’m totally rambling again. It’s time to hit the sack (literally) before we rise early as hell again to start another wave of bombing.

        Night,

        Lance

* * *

 

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                August 5, 1943

 

        Bombings still continue, but we’re gaining ground. It’s hard to write on a normal basis due to just coming back, eating, and sleeping.

        There’s a routine to madness, I guess.

        Although, here’s some good news, a few in our division are going to start sneaking into the mainland in a week or two….or month. These army guys aren’t very clear.

        Anyway, I got picked because of my great shooting skills. Me, Lance the Sharpshooter! Ha! If Marco could see me now.

        Back when we were little, I never forgot our shooting competitions. Marco almost always won. But Papá finally told me the secret of the perfect shot. A deep breath, calm mind, and steady hands. And look where it has gotten me! A special mission!

        Pidge and Hunk are also on call for this mission, because both of their skills are amazing. And Pidge is so small he could probably sneak in anywhere.

        Keith is also on this mission. Because of his good stealth skills or something. I mean, I guess he’s a good fighter, when he’s not being an ass.

        But why won’t he talk to me? Like, I’ve tried so hard to be nice to the guy, and he just totally ignores me!

        Pidge thinks I’m pining—which I’m not!—and just need to calm myself. Hunk thinks that I just keep catching him at a bad time. Which must be always then.

        Whatever.

        I finally got a letter from Mama. Apparently the mail system is slow or something. She wrote that Marco is doing well, and is having fun on his naval ship. He was smart to actual enlist early, so he could choose the Navy. Apparently it is, like, known that the Navy has the best food? (If Hunk knew that, he totally would have joined the Navy).

        She also wrote Rosa is planning on joining the WAC or WAVES (Women’s Army Corps or Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Services). Mamá hopes she joins the WAVES, since she’ll then stay in the States, at least. There are also rumors about the WAC turning women in lesbians? But like…???

        I’m proud of Rosa though. I’m gonna tell Mama that she should do what she thinks is right. Everyone needs to pitch in a hand to help win the war.

        But Mama might start to lose her marbles if more of her children start leaving the nest.

        Anita had to move back in for a little bit, since her husband was shipped off recently. But he’s just doing clerical work. He has flat feet or something? I don’t know. But they’re sending him to London. Anita has been sick to her stomach since. Mama says every morning she is sick. And then she cries.

        Poor Anita.

        Hunk is now glaring at me. I got to go.

        Night,

        Lance

 

* * *

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                August 17, 1943

        It’s official. We’ve won Sicily.

        Tomorrow, the Commander says our small group (small as in 20 men) will start to sneak onto the mainland. Some of the Allies will be there to. Hitler seems to want to high-tail it out of here. Mussolini must be peeing his pants. Ha!

        Keith seems anxious to go. That guy has no off switch, I’m telling you. And he’s gonna get in trouble for not cutting the back of his hair. What a weird style.

        I complained about it to Hunk and he said I’m the only one who noticed. Which just…can’t be true. I mean, has he seen how weird it is?!

        Anyway, Pidge and Keith have been talking a lot together. I think it has to do with those Voltron papers, but I’m not sure. I also don’t really know how to ask, so unless it becomes crucial, I won’t out right ask.

        Oh! And I got another letter from Mama!

        Anita isn’t sick, she’s pregnant!

        Man, I just hope this war ends in time so I can meet my new niece or nephew. I’m going to be the best uncle that kid has ever seen!

        God, I just want this war to end. It’s only been like a month and a half and I want to go home.

        Today, while settling down on the island, we saw the shells of buildings. I walked into a building and found a family portrait. I don’t know why, but I started to tear up. Maybe because who knows if these people are still alive, but they looked so happy before the war started.

        But then I got yelled at by the Commander for wandering off.

        “You’re god damn lucky so many others have died, just so you could be here,” he shouted, “If it wasn’t for our shortage of men you’d be off picking oranges.”

        I just stood there, gapping. I graduated high school for god’s sake! My father is a fisherman, and my mother was a secretary! No one in my family has ever, “picked oranges.”

        I almost shouted something back, but Hunk held me back. Pidge—hell, even Keith—looked mad at the commander, but said nothing. Hunk was right though, didn’t want to be put on a worse duty, or even court martialed.

        “He is just a shit human being, Lance,” Pidge patted my shoulder after, trying to cheer me up, “Maybe when on the mainland we can get a new commander.”

        “Ha, I wish,” I huffed.

        Hunk shrugged, “I don’t know, man. You never know.”

        I gave a small scoff but smiled, “Sure, buddy.”

        After that we were on guard detail. In six hours we’ll be shipping off to the mainland.

        I’ve started praying more. I pray every night before bed now, holding the cross Mama got me. I think everyone has started praying more.

        Hope it means something.

        -Lance “Sharpshooter” Sanchez-McClain.


	2. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, August 19, 1943
> 
> HOLY SHIT.
> 
> Holy mother of God.
> 
> Just…give me a minute.
> 
> Hunk wasn’t wrong about getting a new special mission. But this is…I can’t even think of the right words.

Dear Journal,                                                                                    August 19, 1943

HOLY SHIT.

Holy mother of God.

Just…give me a minute.

Hunk wasn’t wrong about getting a new special mission. But this is…I can’t even think of the right words.

Ok, ok, I’m gonna start from the beginning:

So, we got to the mainland with no problems. And, because it still mostly civilians, we were hiding out in a distant camp and being super sneaky.

But, that also meant we could totally sneak into town and have some fun for once. I mean, after all these bombings and flying and shooting, we surely deserve a break. I know Blue needs to rest—and possibly have new parts.

Anyway, so I convinced Hunk to sneak off with me. Hunk took a lot of convincing, but with the promise of actual food instead of these rations, he was in.

So off we go, sneaking out of camp, when we see Pidge with some binoculars, and some radio gear in a tree.

Hunk was all, “We should leave him alone,” but I knew we needed our radio-man to come on this trip.

So, like any decent person, I threw a rock to get Pidge’s attention.

Unfortunately, that led to Pidge crashing down off their branch.

Boy, you should have heard his curses. It was beautiful.

“What was that for, jackass?!”

“I think the better question is, what are you doing out here?” I had said, crossed arms and pulling a ‘Mama.’

“This isn’t army regulated radio equipment either,” Hunk added, slowly trying to touch the large pan-looking object.

“Don’t touch that!” Pidge slapped Hunk’s hand away, “It’s because it’s not! I made it myself.”

“And what is…this thing anyway?”

Pidge had smirked—being the clever bastard he was—and explained it was a listening tool. Like a spy thing.

“We don’t want the enemy getting the upper hand,” Pidge explained, “There already Germans in that town.”

I scoffed, “Well, yeah, they’re everywhere. That’s why we’re here.”

Pidge had just rolled her eyes, “Not like that. This is different. Everywhere we go, I’ve noticed they’ve been talking about the ‘Voltron’ project.”

“Wait, like what the lists from the commander says?” Hunk asked, wincing when he realized he just basically confessed to looking through Pidge’s stuff.

Pidge glared at us, “You’ve been through my stuff?!”

“You mean the stuff you stole,” I corrected, “And yes. But only out of care!”

Pidge had scoffed, and then just asked us what we were doing sneaking out of camp.

I explained we wanted to go out and explore the town, which they agreed was actually a good idea. At least in order to know the terrain.

But that was all cut short when we heard gun shots.

And, because ‘Danger’ is my middle name, I decided to run towards the gun shots.

Hunk was trying to drag me back, but Pidge and I were determined to know what was going on. They weren’t coming from base, and if there was a preemptive attack on us from the opposing forces, we needed to know.

But, of course, who beats us to it.

Keith.

Keith, the reckless idiot, runs into the enemy’s base with his gun out and ready.

And me, not wanting to be showed up and also panicking for his safety, runs right after him.

Hunk was holding onto Pidge, stopping him for also chasing after us, calling out, “Lance, stop! You’re gonna get shot!”

But my mind was made up. So here I am, this idiot Cuban-American boy, running into an enemies camp; only weapon, a tiny little pistol my brother gave me before he joined the Navy. I don’t even remember if I have bullets. And here I am running head first into danger.

Journal, I think I am Private Snafu.

But then I get into the tent, and there’s Keith with—you’ll never believe it—Shiro!

That’s right. THE SHIRO.

So I’m like, “Nope, no, no, you’re not doing this alone, cabrón.”

And Keith has the balls to say, “Who are you?”

And I was like, “Who am I?! I’m in your squad! Lance, remember? Lance and Keith, racing to be the best pilots.”

“Oh,” Keith looked mildly confused, “You’re on that bomber team right?”

“Well, now I’m here on this mission to.”

Can you believe this guy? What an ass.

So I grab Shiro’s other arms, helping Keith haul him out of this…med tent? I guess? There were a lot of sharp utensils around, to say the least.

And as we leave, Pidge and Hunk are giving us cover fire. Cause, eventually, the guards notice the two Americans running away with their prisoner. I mean, they had to, really.

But Keith had stolen a car (for real). And we all pack on as he drives off to the woods.

And Pidge is freaking out, “Is that Shiro?! Was there anyone else there?!”

And Hunk is like, “Oh man, we’re dead. The Commander is going to discharge us. We’re going to jail.”

“Hunk, we saved an American prisoner of war, how are we going to jail?” I asked, “and Pidge, we only saw Shiro.”

“Can you guys stop shouting?” Keith then yelled, “May I remind you we are surrounded by the enemy!”

I had just huffed.

The enemy had stopped following. We were fine.

Or, we were until the large canyon in the earth separating us from base.

“We can make it,” Keith had grinned.

And, needless to say journal, with a lot of screaming and prayers, we did in fact make it.

So, here we are. Two pilots, a mechanic, and a radio private with the most famous Ace Pilot. Said Ace is missing an arm, has it replaced with metal, and has this huge scar on his nose.     

Oh, and we’re in a stolen vehicle.

So with a small laugh, I say, “Well, that went well.”

The others did not find it funny.

“So Shiro is alive?” Hunk asked, “And who were those guys? They weren’t just German it seemed.”

“Who knows, who cares,” Keith scoffed, “We got Shiro back.”

“But what about the other two?!” Pidge hissed, “If Shiro is alive, so must the other two.”

“With what proof?” Keith scoffed, “We don’t even know why they were taken in the first place.”

Was he serious? “Cause it’s a war?”

“But why give him that arm?” Keith argued.

“Uh, guys,” Hunk interjected, “We should head back to base now, before the Commander finds out?”

“Fuck that guy,” Keith spat.

Before anyone else could interject, Shiro started to wake up.

Shiro groaned and started to slowly open his eyes, looking bewildered, “Keith? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Keith smiled.

And I have no idea why, but my gut seemed to burn at that.

Why did Shiro get all of Keith’s attention?

I MEAN

Why were Keith and Shiro so close? Hunk, Pidge, and I helped save him to dammit!

Shiro then started to get up and ask questions. We gave small introductions, where Shiro was pretty awesome and thanks us and everything.

But Pidge seemed to steer the conversation, “Where are your co-pilots? Are they still alive?”

Shiro only frowned and rubbed his head, and said, “I don’t really remember much of what happened after my plane was shot down. I’m sorry. I know we were all taken together, but after that…it’s all a blur.”

“That’s ok,” Keith said soothingly, “We’ll get this all sorted out and head back home.”

Shiro huffed, “I think it’s too early to head all the way back home, bud.”

I could only give a small laugh, and wish we could go home. This war just seemed to be getting weirder and weirder every day.

And that weirdness only escalated when we got back to base.

We argued about whether or not to even go back—well, Keith and I argued—but Shiro put down his metaphorical foot and told us we shouldn’t have left our troop. Saying how we “went against protocol,” or whatever.

When we got back though, we were met with a different kind of sight.

Namely, a beautiful woman running into my arms.

Ok, so technically I ran into her when going into the Commander’s tent, but still. I’m counting that as a win.

And boy, was she pretty.  

She was tall, with dark skin, and hair that reminded me of clouds and a summer’s day. She looked like she really took care of herself to.

So then I was all like, “Well, hello there gorgeous,” and all the normal charm, and you know what she does?

She twists my damn arm and drags me back into the tent!

She starts talking about how the Commander isn’t, “in as much control,” as he thought, or whatever.

Journal, you should have seen the Commanders’ face; bright red, foaming at the mouth. It was kind of amazing.

“What the hell are you doing here Cadet?!” the Commander shouted, “You should be in your quarters.”

“Right, well, about that,” I had stammered, “We found Shirogane, sir.”

And that’s when he noticed everyone else in the entry way.

So, you would expect like, congratulations and praise, and maybe a goddamn medal and a parade, right?

But nope!

Instead, he starts yelling at us for being spies! Spies! Can you believe this guy?!

Anyway, Keith lost his temper and started accusing the U.S. army of purposefully letting the Kerberos team (apparently that’s what Shiro’s team was called? How did I miss that?!) be shot down. He starts naming all these conspiracy theories, and Pidge also starts going off on him. Hunk and I are just trying to calm everyone down, as Shiro is just in shock.

Finally, the strange woman cuts it.

“If you won’t take them back, I will gladly take them on.”

And that just stops everything. Keith, still seething, was about to start shouting again when Shiro just put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. The Commander just huffs, and nods his head.

“I don’t need these misfits,” he turned away, not bothering to dignify us with a gaze, “use them how you want. But from this point on, the U.S. Military has no dealings with them.”

We all just stand there. Shocked. Or, at least I’m shocked.

Either go off with this stranger, or dishonorable discharge. Neither are great offers. But what’s a boy to do?

“I’m sorry, who exactly are you, anyway?” Keith spat at the woman.

She just smiled back and said, “My name is Allura, and I would like to bring you onto a project known as Voltron.”

At that, Shiro’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of that—Voltron—before. They kept talking about it. My…captors kept wanting to know more about the…the Voltron.”

Allura seemed shocked, “You were captured by the Galra?”

I had to interject then, “I’m sorry, what’s the Galra? Why did they kidnap Shiro? What is a Voltron?” 

“If you want those questions answered, you’ll have to come with me,” Allura then put on a stoic face, “All I can say here,” she glanced at the Commander, then back at us, “Is that this may be our only hope in winning this war.”

It was like someone sucked the air out of the room. Hunk visibly flinched, and looked right back at me. Silently, we were deciding if this was the right choice. Hunk was hesitant

“I’m going with Allura,” Shiro broke into our exchange, “I don’t know what Voltron is, but these Galra are serious. They’ve amassed a lot of power. It will take a special operation to stop them.”  

“If Shiro goes, I go,” Keith stated, simply.

And like the idiot I am, I said, “If Keith goes, I’m going. I’m not letting him get all the glory.”

Keith just rolled his eyes and muttered some curses, but Shiro seemed pleased.

“Nice to see your on board…um…” he stuck out his metal hand.

I hesitated, but after realizing it was just like Great Uncle’s fake leg, I shook his hand, “Lance. And it’s really an honor to serve with you.”

“I’m in,” Pidge didn’t hesitate, “I need to know what happened to the Kerberos mission.”

Hunk just sighed, “Well, I can’t leave my crew with their trusty engineer.”

Allura clapped, “Great, grab your stuff, and let’s head out. I’ll explain everything in the morning.”

So, Journal, I took everything I could carry out of our tent and now we’re sitting in an abandoned old farm house. I asked Allura’s companion, Coran—who has the best mustache I have ever seen on any being ever—if I would still be able to get my mail. He said that he would ask the Commander to redirect our mail to him somehow, but it would take a while. I’ll still be able to send out mail. Everywhere has a mailbox still, at least. And I promised Momma to write whenever I could. But the idea of not hearing back from home is…too much.

But at least I have you journal. They can’t take that away from me. They’ll have to pry you out of my cold dead hands.

I have to sleep now. In about five hours, when we get up, Allura promised to tell us everything we need to know about our mission. I’m terrified, but also excited. She has a strong British accent, so she at least can be trusted, right? Shiro trusts her.

Well, all I can hope is that I made the right choice…and someone takes care of Blue.

-Lance

* * *

  
  
  


Dear Journal,                                                                                    August 20, 1943

Special mission is an understatement. This is like…mind blowing secret shit.

I am now officially working as a spy for a joint OSS-MI6 mission.

And holy shit, if that’s not amazing I don’t know what is.

Ok, ok, ok. I swear this time I’ll fully explain.

Allura isn’t just a pretty face. She’s an actual spy—and princess--but mostly spy. And Voltron is her father’s project that was passed down onto her.

Voltron was code for a new group chosen to use special tools and carry out special missions for various countries in order to keep international peace. Allura’s father, King Alfor, started this project under the League of Nations, but when it was obvious the League was going to fall apart, he took all his technology and plans with him.

Well, almost.

Apparently, a separate group called The Galra—namely their leader, Zarkon--decided to take some of the things Alfor made, and form their own group…with the Nazi’s.

And during the split, Alfor was shot.

So Allura took it upon herself, as Alfor’s sole child, to take over and re-start Voltron. Coran, Alfor’s previous right hand man and top scientist, followed with Allura and both decided to go to the Allied military to see if they would help.

They got a resounding no. From like, everyone. (Allura and Coran were wary of Stalin and his army so they didn’t bother to ask them).

So here’s where we come in.

We’re gonna go in, mostly under cover, and blow up the Galra and restore peace to the world.

Oh, and win the war.

I know it seems like I’m rambling, but we had so much to go over and then Allura just threw stuff at us. It was really, really overwhelming.

We each got really cool weapons, first of all.

So Coran made these things called Bayards that attach to our belts. They’re compact, but when we want to have a weapon it changes to one. Mine is awesome and turns into a rifle, while Keith’s is lame and turns into a sword. Like, what year are we even in?

After that, we all got a wristwatch that doubles as a communicator, some civilian clothes, and a little cyanide pill—just in case.

And, holy shit, if that didn’t really show us this was serious I don’t know what else would.

“I know this seems like a lot,” Allura said, giving a tight lipped smile, “But this is war. The Galra have never shown mercy, and neither should we. We will be training every moment we can, and when not training or traveling, we will be sneaking into the troops to get information.”

Shiro nodded along, “I’ve seen it firsthand, men. The Galra are doing human experiments, and murdering innocents. We can’t be idle any longer.”

Hunk and I could only gulp. This was way more than either of us bargained for.

Keith, though, seemed to relish at this. He wore a smirk and seemed ready to take on the world.

Why can’t I be more like that? I want to be brave to. This fear is just eating me up inside. I don’t want to have to take that pill. I want to go home and go back to the beach, and sing with Mama.

Well, anyway, we decided to do some training after that and hone in on our skills. We also all got code names, based on colors. I’m Blue Paladin!

Allura said when we go on our first few missions; we’ll get the new tech. She is very careful with all of her father’s old supplies.

For now, we’ll be traveling on foot and hopping place to place. Our first stop will be Rome. Apparently, there was chatter detected through radio signals and codes that a general, Sendak, will be there in the next few weeks. We’ll be going in and trying to figure out Sendak’s next move, and where in Italy the Galra have set up base.

I’m now very, very tired and going to sleep again. Keith can kick my ass only so many times before it’s too worn out to go on.

                -   Lance ‘Blue Paladin’

 

* * *

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                    August 29, 1943

Allura is a dictator.

She keeps training us until we fall over. We’ve done drills, done hand to hand combat, and even had shooting practice -- on each other! Granted, it was with fake bullets, but that still hurt! 

Walking to Rome is also exhausting. We finally arrived under the cover of darkness a few hours ago (I think it might actually be August 30, but unsure). Allura said we will have our first assignment tomorrow. 

We have to find Sendak and take him out before the Allies invade on the first. If we can get Commander Sendak out of Italy, apparently the Italian government will surrender. Just like that. 

So, here’s the plan Journal. 

Pidge has made us some radio tech that will allow us all to communicate while we are spread out, and will be with Coran in order to check out the perimeter. Shiro has albeit refused to let him join us in close proximity. 

I think Pidge and Shiro are keeping a secret, but I can’t really tell. I also think it has to do with the Kerberos mission, but again, don’t want to ask and get my head bitten off. 

Anyway, while Pidge has that under control, Shiro, Keith, and I will be chauffeured in to a dinner party hosted by some Italian officials by Hunk (who has since hotwired a car, and upgraded it to go faster. He is a genius engineer, and could probably make it fly if he wanted to). 

Allura is afraid that Sendak might recognize her, so she has given us a full description of the man. She wants us to go in and try to be dignitaries from different countries trying to get involved with The Galra. 

Shiro and Keith are a Japanese envoy (though Keith was pretty mad, considering he is half-Korean, not Japanese) coming from the Emperor himself or some bs.

And what do I get to do, you ask?

I get to stay silent as being there servant.   

Yes, you heard that right. Lance, the third wheeling servant.

Apparently, my accent is too American and would be a dead giveaway. So I’m supposed to stay quiet when dealing with Sendak. But! Allura did say as soon as Shiro and Keith make contact, I should go around and get as much information I can from the Italian politicians. Allura said that, if I speak Spanish, i can come off as a Spanish national, wanting to gain allies. 

Shiro will be doing the real hard part though. He won’t just be trying to get information about Zarkon out of Sendak, but also keep Keith under control. Because, let’s be real here, Keith is a hot head.

Just the other day, Keith was trying to get direction from a local, and almost ripped his head off for not giving him the answers fast enough! Like, seriously, that guy needs to chill.

Anyway, as soon as Shiro and Keith get the info, we’ll be out of there in Hunk’s get away car. The next step will be deciding how to get rid of Sendak.

Time to sleep and get ready for our big day tomorrow. 

Sweet dreams,

Lance “The Blue Paladin”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got two chapters in! Ha! 
> 
> Ok, ok, i'll update more tomorrow I swear. Lots of drama and action. 
> 
> And come talk to me! --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	3. The 'Leonardo'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> Well, that could have gone better
> 
> (Or how or first spy mission went)

Dear Journal, September 1, 1943

 

Well, that could have gone better.

So everything was fine at first. Pidge’s radios were working, Hunk got us in the building with no problems, Allura was monitoring our movements from a nearby location, and just all that Jazz.

Shiro, Keith, and I entered without a real problem. I made my way to the bar, to start chatting up the ladies-- for information, of course-- and Shiro was actually the one to spot Sendak. He and Keith made their way straight for him, and with one look at Shiro’s arm, Sendak was happy to entertain the two.

Apparently, to The Galra, losing an arm and having it replaced against your will is an honor. Who knew.

Sendak had a similar model on his left arm as well. But Sendak bragged about the upgrades since Shiro’s model. And Keith, bless his heart, was just grinding his teeth and trying not to punch Sendak in the face. It was pretty impressive.

Shiro took it in stride though. And, even though I couldn’t hear their conversation, he did get some valuable information. Like Zarkon was staying as close to Germany as possible, and letting his minions out and taking care of all his “facilities.”

He also informed Shiro that, not to worry about the Allies trying to invade Italy. He said, I shit you not, that it wasn’t that important and would allow for their underground network to gain more access.

He also said that this was just an example of what weakness can do.

As he said this, I was speaking to a man-- Antoine-- who was Galra, but was more somber and wanted to turn tail. He was speaking about taking his men and just fleeing east. Antoine was like, really wasted. He also was leaning on me and was just all kinds of touchy. Now thinking about it, I could have sworn Keith kept glaring over at me when he kept getting close. I wonder what his problem.

Unfortunately for Antoine, Sendak came over in that moment (although, not surprisingly, since Antoine was now shouting in Italian how foolish Mussolini was), and with a kind smile, asked why Antoine was speaking this way.

And while Antoine was back tracking, and trying to rationalize his inebriated response, Sendak took out his gun and pointed it at the other’s forehead.

“Now, Commander Antoine, do you really think fleeing like a chicken is really the right way?” Sendak’s voice was so sickeningly sweet, “Do you doubt Zarkon’s plan?”

Antoine was quick to change his mind after that. He said how great Zarkon was, and how he was just being ungrateful.

Sendak seemed pleased with that. And then shot Antoine in the hand.

Journal, I had never seen just a perfect hole in a human’s hand before. There was so much blood, and I wanted to throw up, but Shiro and Keith were both shaking their heads and trying to keep calm.

“Oh, pity, looks like you’re injured,” Sendak chuckled, “I guess we’ll have to send you to the good Druids to help you.”

And Antoine begged not to go, and said he was fine, and that it was just a flesh wound. But still, two guards came and took Antoine away.

When Antoine was out of sight, the party continued, and no one seemed upset or startled (except maybe me). It was as if nothing happened.

And then Sendak turned to me and said, “And who might you be?” (But in Italian).

So I answered back, in Spanish, “Mi nombre es Leonardo,” and stuck out my hand.

Sendak then frowned, but quickly smiled again, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish,” and quickly walked off.

I gave such a sigh of relief after that, and I saw Keith and Shiro do the same. (And over the radios, Pidge was yelling at us to get out of there, it was too much excitement for one night).

We three then slowly left the building, though not all at once.

Keith hit me upside the head, calling me stupid for drawing so much attention to myself.

“It’s not my fault I attract all kinds of beautiful people,” I winked, smiling, but only caused Keith to roll his eyes and walk off.

Shiro briefed us once we all cooled off, and said Sendak would be meeting with some generals to try and discourage surrendering to the Allied forces tomorrow. It would be at one of the Italian military offices, so we would have to be very sneaky to get in.

Worst part about it, though, is that Shiro thought he was hinting that if the generals are not loyal to Zarkon, he would blow up the facility.

This means we get to get in and get out as quick as possible.

For this one, I’ll be the sniper in the building next over. And i’m just so happy to be out of immediate danger.

I’m going to now pray before bed. I think we’ll need it this time.

-Blue Paladin

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Go check out my artists amazing art --> https://raerara.tumblr.com/post/164260280273/i-had-an-amazing-opportunity-to-be-able-to-be
> 
> (Guys i'm really bad at links, forgive me)
> 
> I'm going to try and post the next chapter tomorrow! I'm breaking up these into sections of length, and one important chapter at a time. Cause...drama. I guess
> 
> Feel free to comment, cause I always respond!


	4. The Sniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> I almost died today

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                         September 3, 1943 

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I almost died Journal. I really thought I was going to die.

Ok, backing up to the beginning. Here was the plan to get rid of Sendak.

Allura was going to speak to some diplomats near the base, and try to convince them that the best thing to do would be to stop allying with the Galra.

Pidge was going in with Hunk to see if there were any military records in the base about the Kerberos missions landing or anything. Since they were allied with Galra intel, Pidge was convinced he could find something. Hunk was going in for backup, and if anything needed to be destroyed.

Shiro and Keith were going to try and get Sendak in a spot where I could take my shot. Or, so Keith could stab him quietly in the back. Or something along those lines. That was the fuzzy bit.

So here I am, out of danger supposedly, with Coran in the neighboring building. I tried to remember my Papá’s lessons, and keep my hands steady, and my mind calm. Coran was telling jokes and stories, trying to keep the mood light.

But how could I have been calm when I knew everyone was in danger? It’s hard enough to know your own life is in your hands, but my friends lives as well? That was some major pressure.

Anyway, so here we are. I’m in my spot and listening in to the radios that our in our communicators, and Shiro and Keith have snuck into this huge meeting with a bunch of Italian generals and Sendak, with his Galra cronies. Pidge and Hunk are in the command center or something, and Hunk is rambling on and on about making the best alfredo in his life.

“Hunk, buddy,” I mumble, “No more please, I’m starving.”

“Right, Lance, sorry.”

“Guys, focus,” Shiro hisses-- I assume to his watch. Both Shiro and Keith have these little ear pieces to hear the rest of us. They look kind of like hearing aids. My abuelito has one, and those things worked wonders...when actually in his ears, at least.

“Yeah, Lance, watch our backs,”  Keith heckled, and i start trying to think of a good comeback.

But then, I see Sendak clear his throat and stand.

On the radio, I hear, “Now gentleman, I hear that we are thinking of surrendering if the Allies invade the mainland, is that correct?”

“Commander Sendak, with all due respect,” some Italian general says calmly, “We know the Galra and Hitler himself has been trying to help us, but I must admit, we are low on supplies and man power. If the Allies start storming up to Rome, I’m afraid we will have to surrender.”

Sendak hums, “I understand your predicament, gentlemen, but let us make one thing clear. Zarkon will not be pleased if we just surrender, and neither will I. If you chose to move forward on this matter, I will have to take control of your armies.”

“Excuse you,” Another general stood, slamming his hands on the table, “What gives you any right to do that?!”

“Oh, just if you don’t the Galra will level this city to the ground,” and I swear I could just see the evil grin on Sendak’s face from here.

“Excuse me?”

“We have installed mines and bombs throughout the city, of course. On my word, my soldiers will let off every single bomb. Starting with the building just next door. You know, the ones with most of your troops and prisoners of war. What a war crime that will be.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed, turning to Coran, “Please tell me he didn’t mean our building.”

“I’m afraid it is, old Chap,” Coran swallowed.

“Allura, what do we do?!” I squeaked out.

“I heard you, Lance, get out of there,” Allura stated, “I’ll inform the diplomats here, and try to retrieve as many of these bombs as possible.”

“Wait, Lance!” Pidge shouted, “Did he say Prisoners of War? You have to get them out!”

“Pidge, I don’t think now’s the time for that,” Hunk muttered.

“Quiet,”  Shiro hissed.

“Sendak is still talking, morons,”  Keith whispered.

“With that said, generals, I’ll give you one hour to make your decision,” Sendak turned and strolled towards Shiro.

“Well, Champion, isn’t it good to see you again.

“Champion?” Keith and I asked.

But Shiro hissed, “You know who I am?”

“No normal soldier gets that arm,” Sendak hummed, “Why don’t we three speak in the hall?”

Shiro and Keith nodded as the rest of us yelled for them not to. Typical Keith.

“Now, I know that you are Paladins of Voltron,” Sendak clapped, “So how about this. You don’t interfere, and I won’t kill you or your friends.”

“No dice, Sendak,” Shiro growled, “how dare you threaten innocent lives.”

“Oh, Champion, you know our ways better than most,” Sendak laughed, “And you did well in our care, don’t you think?”

“You took my arm.”

“We gave you a better one, and made you stronger.”

It was at this moment Keith tried to activate his bayard and attack Sendak. He got flipped over instead. Like he weighed nothing.

“Nice try, little Red,” Sendak huffed, “and if i had to guess, you two have an hour to get out of here before I blow you, and your friends, up. Or better yet, bring them to camp.”

I could see Shiro shiver from even my distance.

“What the hell is camp?” I whispered into my communicator.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Keith groaned, trying to pick himself up. As he did, Sendak walked over, gave him one quick kick, and walked off saying “tick, tick.” Shiro was slowly moving, getting Keith up.

“No time for that now, Pidge shouted, breaking me out of my thoughts of wondering if Keith was ok, “You have to free the prisoners!”

“No, we’ve got to get out of here,” Coran corrected, “Lance, put that away and let’s go.”

“No!” Pidge screamed, “You have to get those prisoners!”

“Pidge, I don’t think we should risk their safety,” Hunk chimed in.

“But my family could be there!”

“What?” Hunk and I yelled.

“My brother and father were on the Kerberos mission,” Pidge sighed, “I snuck into thy army to try and find them, because I know they’re not dead.”

“Oh,” Shiro made a sound of surprise, “That’s why you look like Matt!”

“Seriously, just now you remember that,” I hissed.

“Lance, Shiro and I are making our way to you. Get out of there,” Keith panted, “It seems these generals heard from Allura’s diplomats, and will decide within the hour to let Sendak blow up the building, and let us try and kill him before Sendak gets the chance to destroy everything.”

“Great,” I took in a deep breath, “Pidge, are you sure your family is here?”

“Uh...no?” Pidge answered.

“Good enough, I guess,” I stood up and started heading towards the stairs, “Where are the prisoners? I’ll get them out, and get everyone out here quicker than you can say quiznak!”

“You’re not using that word right,” Coran muttered, following, “But I’m with you!”

“They’re in the basement,” Pidge said, “and thanks.”

“Yes, thank you, Lance, but please be careful,” Shiro sighed, “and be as fast as possibly.”

I laughed, “Just call me Speedy Sanchez!”

“And we’ll be there as soon as we can,” Keith inserted, “So don’t get yourself killed, Mcclain!”

I just rolled my eyes, “Of course, Kogane. Let’s go, Coran.”

With that, and knocking out a dozen or so guards to get to the prisoners. Hunk and Pidge showed up shortly, with Keith. Apparently Shiro was going hand to hand with Sendak somewhere. But we were kind of busy opening every goddamn cell and letting out hundreds and hundreds of starved men and women.

None of them were Pidge’s family though.

“The hour’s almost up, my boy. Time to get the quiznak out of here,” Coran said.

“You got it, my man,” I grinned, but strained. I was getting tired from all the fighting and running.

So we made our way up the stairs. Everyone else was already out.

On the radio, I hear Sendak get the generals are going to surrender when the Allies invade. And Sendak just laughs.

“Good,” Sendak must be grinning, “Maybe this will teach them not to mess with Zarkon.”

I can hear Shiro panting, “Is everyone out?”

“Almost!” I huffed out, “I see the door.”

But Coran fell. And I couldn’t leave him behind. And it was like everyone is slow motion.

I push Coran out the door, hear my team shout to run, and then feel the fire behind my back.

So I blacked out after being tossed out the building by a freaking bomb. But, Hunk told me when I woke up, that everyone tried to get to me but Sendak was blocking there way, laughing and holding a gun to Shiro’s head (he had fallen to his knees in exhaustion).

Keith had apparently charged over (of course) and Sendak didn’t even hesitate, and grabbed the others neck. Sendak was choking him, cackling about how Voltron was a failure or some bullshit.

And then I woke up from my coma and shot Sendak in the side.

Now, all I remember is briefly waking and seeing a cackling figure holding up someone struggling, and reaching for bayard. I took a deep breath and shot.

Long story short, Sendak fell over and Shiro took Sendak’s gun and shot him in the head. Apparently it was bloody.

And also Keith ran over to me, and held me, and I said “We do make a good team.”

But that sounds kind of...I don’t know, fake? Why would Keith cradle me? Unless...does he actually not hate me? But why?

I mean, I am awesome, but also like...he hates me doesn’t he?

Whatever. Allegedly I went right back to sleep after that, and Coran has been tending to my wounds since. When I woke up, I was told the Allies have invaded and Italy signed to a unconditional surrender. So our job is done here. (Though apparently they’ll put in a Nazi puppet state like South France? What the actual Hell? I mean...i guess it’s good it’s not Galra but still. Feels like a muted victory).

Also, Pidge is a girl?!?!?! Like...she just told us. And apparently everyone knew but me?! How!! I say shenanigans! She snuck into the army, and no one knew at the war office that she’s a girl? How the hell did she trick the doctors!?

Bleh. I feel sick. I’m going back to sleep.

Oh, and we’re on a train towards Austria. None of the prisoners were Pidge’s family, but they did say there’s more prisoners towards Austria, as well as more...camps? Unsure what that is. But for now, we’re going to try and liberate as many people as we can from Zarkon.

God help us, and protect us.

 

-Lance “Not Dead” Sanchez-Mcclain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, personally, this is one of my favorite chapters. 
> 
> Next chapter will probably be up on Sunday...maybe tomorrow if not fully drained from work.
> 
> Comment, or bother me here --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	5. The Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> Keith and I actually had a moment, I guess?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Here's the correct art for this section! -->https://raerara.tumblr.com/post/164260280273/i-had-an-amazing-opportunity-to-be-able-to-be
> 
> Thank you Raerara! You're an awesome artist!

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                                   September 10, 1943

 

Hey, it’s been a while. I’m almost all healed up, which means Allura has been working me to the bone again. That woman needs to learn about breaks.

Anyway, a few days ago, Hunk and Coran went on a scouting mission to find supplies and some parts for a project Hunk and Pidge were working on. The rest of us got to train in the woods.

Keith and I actually had...like a moment I guess? 

So, there I was, staring off over the hill looking over the nearby village. I was reading a letter from Mama, and Keith just...walks up.

So, to break the silence, I hum a small, “Hey.

And he goes, “Hey yourself. What’re you doing away from camp? You’re still recovering.”

And I laughed, “Aw, you do care.”

And Keith gets all exasperated and shouted, “We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!”

“Sure, Keith, sure,” I laughed.

Keith then just pouted and looked all grumpy. But I went back to my letter, and then start to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

And, I don’t know why, but I tell him.

“My Mama just wrote me, and said something funny about my sister Anita being all pregnant. Apparently Anita, my mother, and my sister Rosa can’t agree about wives tales. My Mama says heart burn means the baby will have beautiful hair, while Rosa says it means a hairy baby--like a werewolf. Needless to say it upset Anita, and my papa just said, ‘Better a hairy baby than a bald baby,’ and now no one can talk about it without starting another war.”

I started chuckled, and Keith just looked...endeared but confused.

“You sound close to your family,” he said.

“Yeah,” I grinned, “I’m one of the youngest, and get baby-ed a lot, but I love my family. My parents came to the U.S and worked so hard to make our lives better, you know? So I have to work just as hard to make them proud.”

Keith hummed, “I never really had that.”

“Huh?”

“Well...my mother died when I was young, or disappeared. My father never told me, and one day he just...left,” Keith said, looking out into the distance, “I was alone for a little while before Shiro found me just wandering around his town,” he laughed, “He thought I was a hobo.”

All I could do was just in awe, “I’m so sorry Keith, I had no idea.”

He just shrugged, “It’s alright. Shiro took me to his family and they took me in. Everything was fine until this damn war.” 

I gave a small snort, “You act like you love fighting.”

He sneered, “I don’t mind a good fight -- I have a reputation, you know-- but this...if Shiro hadn’t enlisted, I never would have joined. And if Shiro never went missing, I wouldn’t have fought this hard to get here.”

And with that, it all made sense. Keith’s determination. Keith’s shitty attitude. He was just hurting, and desperate to find his family. 

In that small, quiet moment, I scooted just a bit closer and put my hand on his. And he squeezed back.

“We’re going to get through this,” I said quietly, in a whisper, “I feel the same way. And we will end this war. We can do it, as a team.”

Keith then smiled at me, “Yeah, we can.”

We just sat there for a while. Naming constellations, and eventually I told him about some of the things I did growing up with my family, and he told stories of Shiro and him growing up.

And it was...nice. It was really nice.

My heart felt really funny though. The last time I felt this way was with that girl Jane. But that...Journal, I can’t actually...like like Keith? Isn’t that a sin? Won’t God be angry?

But Mama always did say love takes many shapes and forms. 

Ugh, Journal I am confused. I think I need to rest more. I’ll write if anything else happens later. I think I should...cool off in that stream nearby or something. 

 

    Forever Yours,

Lance Sanchez-McClain

* * *

 

Dear Journal                                                                                                                                           September 12, 2943

 

Hunk and Coran aren’t back yet. How far did they have to go for some damn supplies? I mean...could something have happened to them? 

Nope! Nope, nope, brain stop. Hunk and Coran are fine. Hunk is too strong and good, and Coran is really smart to. They probably had to just go far for like...special tech things. Yeah, that’s it. 

Anyway, Pidge and Shiro had a really interesting conversation around the campfire tonight. Pidge won’t stop asking Shiro what happened, and what he remembered, and if Shiro could remember anything about her brother. 

And I guess Shiro finally just...cracked?

“Katie, my memory is all scattered,” Shiro sighed, “I remember being shot down. We had jumped out and parachuted down. Matt was ok, we all were, and then we were surrounded. So we became prisoners of war. I remember a lot of whispers...and then….”

Shiro had stopped, and shivered. He had that far distant look in his eyes that one only hears about in boot camp. That “shell shocked,” thing. Papa used to describe his father having that look.

“He’d look out into the distance, sometimes with tears,” Papa said, with his thick accent, “He’d sometimes whisper the names of the bombs. Of those who died. And when asleep, he would scream.”

It use to scare me as a kid. But here was Shiro, the great war hero, Ace Pilot, still as stone and scared.

“Shiro, where did they take you?” Pidge pressed.

“Pidge, that’s enough,” Keith growled.

“I agree with Keith,” I interjected, “stop pushing him.”

“No,” Shiro held up his hand, “I understand. I also want to find Matt to, Pidge, and your father. They were the finest soldiers-- and friends-- I had...have.”

“They’re still alive, Shiro,” Pidge ground out, “I know they are.”

“I think...Matt and I were sent to the same prisoner of war camp,” Shiro rubbed his head, “It’s all blurry, but I remember fighting, and a Galra program. After an accident they took me away, took my arm,” he looked at his prosthetic, “Matt and I were then separated. Before then we were in a really crowded bunk -- I think-- with a bunch of other people. Some soldiers some...they didn’t seem like soldiers.”

Allura then hummed, “There have been...rumors,” she grimaced, “that the Nazi’s have ben rounding some groups up, like Communists and Jewish people, and putting them together.”

“Like the Japanese internment camps?” Pidge scowled.

Keith scoffed, “So much for American goodness and all that shit.”

“Yes, well, kind of,” Allura looked away, “There are...rumors that they are death camps. Though, they are just rumors.”

Shiro frowned, “That sounds about right,” he clenched his hands, “Well, Matt and I were sent to one of these...camps together. And then the Galra came and picked a few of us for another project. That’s where the fighting started. The Galra were testing out new soldiers and weapons. Matt was..not part of it? I think? But I was and I lost my arm and…”

“How did you escape?” Pidge asked.

“I...I don’t remember,” Shiro was rubbing his head, “I think someone from the inside helped? I don’t remember, Katie, please. No more.”

Keith started rubbing circles into Shiro’s back, muttering something--I think-- in Japanese.

“It’s ok, Shiro,” Pidge spoke calmly and softly, “that’s enough. You don’t have to remember anymore.”

And I swear to the Lord above I heard Shiro give a choked sob. And we all just piled around him and tried to comfort him. 

Journal, I don’t know what Shiro sees when he closes his eyes, but it terrifies me. With every answered question, there’s just more questions and heartbreak.

I hope Hunk and Coran return soon, just so we can keep moving. We’re getting close to German territory and I’m getting antsy. 

 

Sweet dreams,

Lance 

 


	6. The Accidental Damsel in Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> Good news, Hunk and Coran returned!
> 
> Bad news, we’re now on a mission to save Hunk’s new girlfriend/not girlfriend.

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                  September 14, 1943

 

Good news, Hunk and Coran returned!

Bad news, we’re now on a mission to save Hunk’s new girlfriend/not girlfriend. 

To start from the beginning, Hunk and Coran arrived back from their supply mission. We all greeted them happily, and started to unload their packs, when Hunk adamantly stopped us.

“Guys, you don’t understand, we have to go back right now.”

“What happened?” Shiro asked.

“Coran, were you two intercepted somehow?” Allura continued.

Hunk shook his head, and told us how in this small city in Austria, the Galra had set up this sort of ghetto. It was mostly full of Jewish people, and some other groups, but it was really bad. The Galra were using this area to build weapons and all sorts of artillery. They were using the people in the ghetto sa basically free labor, and controlled their rations.

Hunk had met Shay, one of the resistance fighters, and their small group. It was a bunch of young teens, basically, sneaking in and out, just struggling to get the bare necessities and some weaponry.

“And guys, they know that we were there and planning to start taking the people on these trains to work camps,” Hunk’s eyes were wide and wild, “Shay and the others have been hearing about these trains from others groups. They fill the people into cattle cars, to the brim, and then they mostly kill people at these work camps. It’s really bad.”

“Why would the Galra do that?” Pidge asked, “It seems like they just want free labor.”

“It’s not the Galra sending the people by train,” Coran scowled, “The Galra pick a few individuals for their own projects, but let the Nazi’s take the rest.”

“Jesus,” I rubbed my head, “How can this be real?”

Hunk frowned, “I don’t know, but we got to hurry. Shay and the resistors are planning an uprising, but if we’re not there to help it might be all for nothing.”

So, we’re making our way to save the people. Hunk drew up plans of where the Resistance is, and where we would be needed. We need to blow up the weapons facilities, and possibly any train lines. Keith and I are going with Hunk into the Ghetto to protect the people from the Galra and other soldiers. Hunk says there’s a few buildings that have great vantage points, and Keith would be on the ground fighting and misdirecting the soldiers while Hunk and Shay would be trying to direct the people out and into the woods to hide for the remainder of the war, or try to sneak over into Switzerland. 

Shiro and Pidge would be going into the factories to set up explosives that Hunk and Pidge built to fully destroy all the factories. At the same time, Allura and Coran were going to try and figure out these rumors about the trains.

With these plans in mind, and some hot-wired cars, we’re driving as fast as we can to the town called Balmera.

On a side note, I was able to send two letters home the other day. And I wrote a bit about Keith and the others to Mama. Keith’s been on my mind more and I really wish I knew what that meant. He’s so awesome. We were practicing hand to hand combat today, and I toppled him for once!  And I was on top of him and...well, we just kind of sprinted off of each other when Shiro coughed. Pidge laughed. It was so embarrassing.

           Lance “lobster-faced” Sanchez-MClain

* * *

  
  


Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                     September 16, 1943

 

This will have to be quick, since we’re coming upon Balmera, but I have to tell you this story of how Keith saved my ass. Again.

So Hunk needed something real quick, and we decided the best place to get it would be the Black Market. 

So we meet these two people, Nyma and Rolo, and they’re nice enough. We know enough German to bullshit enough to get by.

But Pidge sees some tech she wants. And me, trying to be smoothe, try to sweet talk Nyma (in Spanish to not blow our cover) for it.

Well, she just smiled, nodded, but then said it was in the building we were in front of.

So, like an idiot, I follow.

And then get handcuffed.

And then Nyma is so happy to be able to give the Glara the ‘Paladins or whatever’ what they have been looking for. And oh, “It’s not personal, Friend, but we all must eat.”

So she leaves me, tied up, in basically some sort of freezer. And I start to panic and hit the bracelet communicator-radio thing. 

“Guys, guys! Nyma tied me up and is coming back with Galra!” I said, near full on panic, “I’m tied up in a freezer!”

“Lance, of course, this would happen to you” I hear Keith sigh, “Hold on.”

I then hear a scuffle outside the walls. Hunk and Pidge told me after they had my transmission, they tackled Rolo and give him a nice black eye and cracked rib. At the same time, Keith comes running through, swords blazing, and legit cuts through the door.

Journal, I almost pissed my pants.

Needless to say, I was released, we got what we wanted (after Nyma and Rolo promised to not tell or soul or face Allura’s cold rath. Let alone Hunk’s, who looked like he would murder them in that moment), and we were out on the road again.

Keith will now not let me live down that he’s had to save me. I’m forever living in hell.

 

See you in Balmera,

Lance Sanchez-McClain

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to see Badass Shay guys. For reals.


	7. The Regretful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> I want to take it back.

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                  September 17, 1943

 

I take back whatever I said about living in hell.

I take back all the times I said my life was hard.

I take everything back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWHAHAHA Cliffhanger!!
> 
> Side note: Thank you everyone for leaving nice comments and stuff!! Please send in more comments whenever. I love reading them, they make my day! 
> 
> Or bother me on tumblr --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	8. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> We had just arrived in the Balmera Ghetto and…
> 
> Remember when all the commanders and shit said “War is Hell?” Well, they’ve never been to a ghetto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Death, dead bodies, and vomit

Dear Journal,                                                                                              September 20, 1943

 

Sorry about that last entry, Journal.

We had just arrived in the Balmera Ghetto and…

Remember when all the commanders and shit said “War is Hell?” Well, they’ve never been to a ghetto.

When we arrived, we snuck in by climbing a brick wall. The Nazi’s had literally built a wall around these people to restrict them. We were lucky it was just Hunk, Keith, and I sneaking it. Pidge would not be able to get over. 

But inside was worse. Way, way worse.

There were just...dead bodies. Lying around. Of all ages. 

Shay told us disease and hunger was rampant, and sometimes a Galra or Nazi would come in and “make examples” of “criminals” and hang them up in the middle of the ghetto for everyone to see. Sometimes people were shot at for breaking curfew. And since they were walled off, there wasn’t anywhere to really put the bodies. Someone would need to come in and like...just take them somewhere.

I threw up in the first five minutes of being there. Keith and Hunk both had to drag me along. Hunk said that he had also come in and threw up. Apparently it was a common occurrence for new people.

Shay was hiding out with some others in a basement. She was so happy to see us, and when I say us, I mean Hunk.

Like, holy hell, was their crush vibes. Shay gave Hunk a huge hug, and it looked like Hunk didn’t want to let go,

“I was terrified we wouldn’t get here in time,” Hunk confessed, “Some black market scum tried to kidnap Lance.”

“Hey!”

And Shay laughed, “It’s ok, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, well, nothing will matter if we don’t get this all set up by sunrise,” Shay’s brother, Rax, hissed, “The gestapo and Galra will be here first thing in the morning and try to send us all to the ovens. We have to get ourselves out of here, and fast, or die trying.”

“We’re getting everyone out,” Hunk insisted, “We can’t leave people behind.”

Rax rolled his eyes as Shay scowled, “The elderly--whoever may be left--and babies will weigh us down.”

“We won’t leave anyone behind,” I countered, “It’s not the Voltron way.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

So then, here we are, discussing plans as Shiro and Pidge start setting up the bombs. Allura and Coran radio in, warning of the size of the Galra coming. And damn, was it large.

We made quick work. I was set up on one of the taller buildings, and while getting in position, Hunk, Shay, and the other Resistant fighters are letting everyone know that it was time to go. But, some refused to leave. 

Some of them had made deals with the Galra/Nazis, and thought they would survive whatever was to come. Others refused to leave their grandparents (though we tried to stress we wouldn’t leave them behind). It was just an overall mess really. Hunk apparently then called in Allura and Coran for reassurances.

Coran and Allura both spoke enough German to speak to the people more fluently, and apparently make them feel comfortable? I don’t know, but it made them actually start getting out of the way of fire.

Keith was surveying the area and figuring out where the weak spots were going to be, and such. I was looking at his movements from the binocular on my bayard. Keith knew I was looking, cause he kept pointing and talking to me through his wrist, telling me to watch out in those certain areas.

Anyway, I’m writing this right before the break of dawn. Allura warned us just now that the gestapo is on the way. 

Time to say a quick prayer. 

 

  * The Blue Paladin




	9. The Bittersweet Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> Dawn had hit. The Galra came in with the Nazi’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Death, violence, gore

Dear Journal,                                                                                                             September 25, 1943

 

Well...we won.

Dawn had hit. The Galra came in with the Nazi’s. 

“Everyone please exit your homes and head towards the train,” the head of the troops shouted with his megaphone, “You will soon be boarding for your new homes.”

And that was the cue for all hell to break loose.

Pidge had then detonated all of the bombs, surprising the troops long enough for Keith and the ground forces to start there attack.

Shiro and Pidge were meeting with Allura and Coran, who were trying to destroy the train lines.

I was defending Hunk and Shay from my vantage point. But there was one thing we really didn’t account for.

“Shiro, Pidge, come in,” I shouted through my communicator.

“What is it Lance?” Shiro asked.

“The wall! We need a bomb to destroy it,” I shouted over enemy fire, “the young people can get over, but it’s going to take too long for the children and elderly!”

“Pidge is on her way,” Shiro responded, “Protect the people until we can destroy the wall.”

“Roger that.”

So now the pressure was really on. Hunk somehow turned his bayard into a bazooka, and flipped over one of the trucks to protect the people who are slowly climbing up the wall. Keith was hand to hand with the commander.

From my vantage point, I can’t hear anything but gunfire and loud screams. So, I start praying under my breath in hopes of some sort of miracle.

Then there’s another large explosion and I see brick and bodies flying. 

Apparently Pidge threw a grenade, since there were Galra surrounding the whole area. So the bodies flying were Galra. Hopefully.

So Hunk and Shay lead the people out, and the Galra retreat...or at least whoever is still alive does. 

And then it’s over. We won.

I walked down from my building and see Keith, covered in blood. 

“Well, we won,” I smile, patting him on his back.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Glad this blood isn’t mine.”

And I open my mouth to make another joke, but hear crying and stop.

Keith and I looked to each other, puzzled, and then walked around looking for the source of the crying.

In an alleyway, covered in blood, is a dead woman and two little kids trying to shake her awake. 

And we walk over, and they freeze, and then cry harder. 

“No, no, shh, it’s ok, we’re the good guys,” I tried to say, in whatever broken German I could, and kneeled down.

The girl who is older just shook her head, and the little boy just looked confused. 

They were both so, so thin. There clothes were all ratty. And all the wanted was for their mother to not be dead. 

“Come on, kids, we got to go,” Keith mumbles.

“We can’t leave her out here,” the girl sniffles, “the rats will eat here like our little brother.”

I swallow the urge to throw up, “Ok...ok, we’ll uh...hold on,” and I run to find a blanket in one of the buildings. I came back to see Keith--awkward as all hell--trying to pat the kids heads.

So I come over and slowly wrap their mother’s body in the blanket.

“Keith? Lance? Where are you?” Allura asks through the communicator.

Keith sighs, “We’re uhm...taking some stragglers. Will be there shortly.”

When I’m done with wrapping the body as best I can, I hear the little girl mutter something in, I assume, Hebrew.

“It’s a prayer, so she can sleep safely,” the little girl explained.

And I sniffled, trying to hold back tears. Keith just puts a hand on my shoulder, and brings me in closer. Because in times like these, there’s nothing more to say.

The little girl takes Keith’s hand as he starts to lead us away, but the little boy doesn’t want to leave. So I have to pick him up, kicking and screaming, back into the forest. He was lighter than a feather, but damn...he could really kick.

When we met the others, Shay ran over, kissing our cheeks in gratitude. (Apparently she kissed Hunk on the lips, but only Pidge will tell us for the other two blush).

One of the other adults had run over to hug the little girl, and then took the little boy in my arms.

“What happened?” the adult woman asked.

The little girl sniffled, “we were running to the meeting point, but we weren’t fast enough. Mutti didn’t want to forget the photo album,” and she then burst into tears, “she didn’t want to forget anyone.”

And the waterworks just won’t stop running down my face. And now the page is all wet, as I write this down.

I was surprised that Keith was the one to hug me, and rub circles in my back.

“It’s ok, we did good,” Keith said, but I heard choked sobs coming from him to. He was just better at hiding it.

It’s just...I can’t imagine my little cousins and siblings dealing with this. I can’t imagine Mama being here and having to decide who gets to eat. What the hell would I even take if I could only pack one bag and leave my home forever?

We all slept after that, but we had to leave the people of Balmera in the woods.

Shay and Rax, with the other resistors, were going to try and move further into the woods, and make their way to Switzerland, or any humanitarian organization.

“Wherever we go, will be better than the Ghetto,” Rax huffed.

“But we really can’t thank you enough, if there’s anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Shay smiled kindly.

“We just want you to stay safe, and alive,” Hunk smiled.

“And make sure to remember to give Hunk a call after the war,” I interjected, with a wink.

“Lance!” Hunk hissed.

But Shay just giggled, “I’ll wait for you, Hunk. If we make it out of here alive, let’s meet in Zurich.”

Hunk smiled softly, and grabbed her hand, “I will search the whole world to see you again.”

She blushed, and then slowly removed her bracelet, placing it in Hunk’s hand. It was gold, with red beads.

“It’s for safety,” she said, “It lead me this far, and now you’ll need it more.”

“I promise to stay safe, at all times.”

Pidge then made a gagging sound, “You two are gross!”

“Shh,” I batted at Pidge, “They’re having a moment!”

“I’m with Pidge,” Keith grumbled, “It’s so...mushy.”

“You’re just not a romantic,” I stuck out my tongue.

Keith paused, then shrugged, “Don’t need to be.”

And then we started bickering, but was stopped by Shiro.

“Alright, knuckleheads, it’s time for us to go,” Shiro sighed, “Allura and Coran have word that Zarkon himself will be nearby soon. We got to move out and see if we can take him out.”

“You got it boss,” I saluted.

So now we’re on our way to Germany itself. Allura got word that there are some resistance fighters that are working within the Galra, and also want to check out where the trains are leading, so we’re slowly gonna make our way over. 

 Forever yours, 

Lance “Blue Paladin” Sanchez-McClain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I hesitated with the last two chapters since they are way more darker than my usual writings. If i left out a warning or tag, let me know and i'll quickly add it on.
> 
> Please feel free to bother me and stuff in the comments, or on tumblr --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	10. The Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal,
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving.
> 
> Though, we don’t have much to be thankful for other than being alive.

  
  


Dear Journal,                                                                                                                             October 25, 1943

 

There hasn’t been much to report besides training, and Allura and Shiro sneaking into venues to try and figure out if there is a resistance, or where Zarkon will be.

Leads are slim. Fighting is at a minimum. It’s nice to have a lull.

We went to a bar recently, undercover of course. And Keith and I almost danced? Or something like that? But then the whole club almost had a meltdown.

Turns out homosexuals--which I’m not!--have also been sent to “camp.” Which is also really, really terrifying.

Before we left, two women ran up to us, giving a soft smile. 

“Don’t do that again,” one of them said in broken English, making us blink, “You will be shot.”

The other woman nodded, “Be careful. We tell people we are sisters. No one bothers. But you?”

The other laughed, “You look opposites more.”

Keith and I were shocked.

“How did you know we were American?” Keith asked, startled.

They both shrugged, the first answering, “We know the mannerism. Use to have an American lover.”

“He was like you,” the second pointed at me, “Tall, tan, friendly.”

“We miss him,” the other looked down, and sighed.

“Is he…?”

They both shrugged, “We don’t know.”

“He ran off after Poland was invaded,” The first explained, “He might be resistance. He might be dead. We are alive.”

“After the war,” the second nodded, more to herself, “We will know. Please, win soon.”

“Yes, soon.”

And we just both nodded and walked off in silence. Neither of us knowing what really to say.

So that was...eventful. To say the least.

I also haven’t really heard back from home. I got one letter from Mama. But there was nothing really important said. Just that she worries for me, and hopes I’m doing ok. 

I miss her so much. I miss everyone so, so much.

 

-Lance Sanchez-Mcclain

* * *

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                      November 25, 1943

 

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Though, we don’t have much to be thankful for other than being alive. It’s getting cold, and is already snowing on the border between Bavaria, Germany and Austria. I never did well in the cold. It’s awful.

But we found more resistance fighters, these ones call themselves Blades of Marmora. I have no idea why though. 

Shiro was first to find them. Apparently, Ulaz (one of the Marmora) helped Shiro escaped that night by distracting the base. He has been working on the inside with a man named Thace.

Now, of course these aren’t there real names. But everything is secrecy with them. They are very, very careful.

Pidge bugged them to know more about the resistance, and to know if they had seen her brother.

Well...she was about to ask, when Kolivan had strode over and started yelling.

“Matt, was ist der hier machen?! Du sollen in Berlin sein!” 

“You know my brother?!” Pidge shouted, nearly knocking over the older man.

Turns out, Matt also was rescued by a different branch of the Resistance and was now undercover in Berlin.

“Ja, he’s been hacking the systems and screwing over the battle plans,” Kolivan grinned, “If you are as good as he with technology, maybe this war won’t be so long.”

Pidge just laughed, bubbling with joy. Her eyes were sparkling like the stars and it was, honestly, kinda creepy.

“What about my father?” She then asked, a bit later.

Kolivan was silent, “He was sent to Camp. I have not seen.”

And that iced the room down about twenty degrees.

But Pidge is still really happy that Matt is alive, albeit still in danger. 

We’re now formulating a plan with the Marmora (against Allura’s wishes. There’s still some bitterness between her family and anything German related) and Voltron to invade Galra headquarters and to take out Zarkon. 

But man, if I could be home right now. Mama sent a letter, telling me all she was planning for Thanksgiving, even though rationing has made it a bit more difficult. She still made Turkey, and then some of our more traditional grub. 

Mama even sent me some chocolate, knowing it would last in postage. She also said she had to hide it from Anita. Anita has apparently been eating them out of house and home. Though, Mama supposes it’s better than keeping a strict diet. She is feeding for two. 

And Benito sent me a little drawing he did of everyone--he’s going to be an artist I know it! He drew everyone sitting around the table, Marco and I in our own separate table with a little airplane and boat. 

I miss them so, so much. 

Mama also writes she is a bit worried, since Marco isn’t writing as much either. She misses us, and continues to pray for us every night.

Between her prayers, my prayers, and now Shay’s prayers, I have no imagine we’re going to be safe. I hope.

 

-Lance “Freezing his ass off” Sanchez-McClain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Been a busy week. 
> 
> Come bother me for faster updates --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	11. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> We all exchanged gifts though! I mean...it was mostly just some extra food lying around and Pidge and Hunk made some gadgets, but it’s the thought that counts, as Mama always said.
> 
> But...I did give Keith something a little different.

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                          December 25, 2943

 

Merry Christmas!

I swear I mean to write more but there isn’t much to write other than I’m freezing, I’m tired of fighting the same three fights over and over again, and I miss home,

We all exchanged gifts though! I mean...it was mostly just some extra food lying around and Pidge and Hunk made some gadgets, but it’s the thought that counts, as Mama always said.

But...I did give Keith something a little different.

See, I found this red stone embedded in some rock. I don’t know if it was once someone’s, or it’s just typical to find here in Germany, but it reminded me so much of Keith. He is the Red paladin, of course.

So, with the help of Hunk (who was easily persuaded and kept making this weird face?) we made a small ring.

I then gave it to him when everyone else had fallen asleep in this little farmhouse we snuck into. 

“Lance...this is too much,” He started, eyes wide.

I just shrugged, “It’s really not. Hunk helped out to.”

“How’d you even find metal?” he asked, mouth opened. God, his stupid face was so cute when shocked.

“That’s my secret,” I winked, not wanting to tell him I just ransacked some Nazi stash I had found from our last raid, “Besides, you remember what Shay said. Red is for safety.”

Keith just shook his head, smiling, “But Lance, I didn’t make you anything this special.”

I scoffed, “You made me this bracelet!”

“Yeah, from some leather scraps I found, and I gave one to everyone,” he rolled his eyes, “You made real jewelry.”

I just shook my head, “I love it all the same.”

He frowned, and then seemed to jump in his seat, “Wait.”

He started digging through his little side bag thing. It was always next to his dagger, which apparently came from his mother? The Marmora recognized it, but only said it was a traditional blade made in a certain part of Germany and left it at that. 

Keith then made a small, “a-ha!” sound and turned to me, with another ring.

“This ring was my father’s,” he slowly explained, “It even has some turquoise in it, Blue Paladin.”

I held up my hands, “I can’t take something that important to you, Keith.”

“Of course you can,” he huffed, “Besides, it’s not like your running away from me or anything,” his eyes showed doubt.

“Of course not,” I held his hand slowly, “We’re a team, right?”

Keith shifted, “I was hoping more than just...a team?”

I blinked, in sudden realization.

“I read this wrong,” Keith started backing away, “I’m sorry, I promise to leave you along, I’m-”

I stopped his rambling when I leaned forward and kissed him.

Holy shit I kissed him.

Holy shit I’m going to hell.

But...it felt really nice?

How could God make something so sinful feel really nice and right?

Maybe it’s not a sin? God wouldn’t make love evil. That’s just what those monsters want us to think...or something.

Well, anyway, I took Keith’s ring and I put it on my necklace, right next to my cross. And we laughed, and kissed a bit more, and then finally fell asleep.

And I just woke up ten minutes ago to write all this down. 

If we survive...no, when this war is over, I’m going to take Keith home with me. And I’ll show him what a good meal is, and how a family can be really really nice. 

And maybe we can tell everyone we’re just brothers who live together? I don’t know...it worked for those two women. Maybe we’ll have Pidge live with us for a beard.

Ha! Like she would do that, or anyone would fall for that.

Ok, ok, I’m too giddy. I’m gonna go back to sleep. 

I might not write for a while after this. If anything comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know, Journal. You’ve become my new best friend in all this. 

 

With Love,

Lance Sanchez McClain

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like...four more chapters planned hypothetically? I want to post more but life has been weird. I swear I'm not running away! There is an ending coming soon! 
> 
> Come bother me and ask for more chapters here --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	12. The Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Valentine’s day. I just killed a person.

 

Dear Journal,                                                                                                  February 14, 1944

 

Happy Valentine’s day. I just killed a person.

In these last two months, we’ve been freeing Galra camps and destroying weapons factories. We are so close to Zarkon we can taste it.

But today, was a bad day.

Keith and I were on a special mission to sneak into one of the bases while Hunk and Pidge gathered information, and Allura and Shiro were trying to get the Red Cross to give more aid to people. Shiro and Allura were a great team for diplomatic things.

So here Keith and I were, sneaking around and trying to by Hunk and Pidge time. We were doing really well, not getting caught and stuff. We’re like almost pro’s at being spies.

And then an alarm went off for all soldiers to meet in the main room.

And since we were disguised as soldiers, we had to go.

And then the Commander is yelling and then is just...shooting recruits.

The Galra are so fucking brutal, and Hunk is telling us to get out of there, that Pidge was done getting what we needed and it was time to go.

So Keith and I start to back up when the Commander grabs Keith and asks where he thinks we’re going.

When we don’t respond, and that we can’t figure out his rapid German, he figures it out.

And Keith straight up stabs him. He opens the bayard while being held and the guy is skewered in that second. Then there’s all these guns pointed at us. But we’re quick, and sprint out of there.

We’re under heavy fire now and hiding behind a dumpster.

“We gotta get out of here,” I say, trying to keep calm.

“Look, an open room!” 

Keith then drags us to this open room. And, inside, are two people arguing over paper.

We shut the door and block it with a large cabinet. 

“Wer bist du?” One asks, eyes narrowed.

“Americans,” I grin, showing off my gun.

“Is there a window out from here or something?” Keith grunts, “And if you lie, we will kill you.”

“Ha,” the first one, the blonde, laughed, “You think we will tell you spies anything?”

The other man, younger with brown hair, and looking scared, turned to look at us, “Please,” he holds up his hands, “Just leave us be. We don’t want trouble.”

“Hans,” the blonde huffs, “What are you saying?”

“I have a family,” Hans hisses, “And I have heard of Voltron Spies,” he continues to hold his hands up, “Please, just leave out that window.”

“Thanks,” I nod, gun still pointing at them as we slowly walk backwards to the window.

And the blonde growls, and shoots the other without hesitation, “You are weak and not fit to be Galra.”

Hans is now on the ground grasping his side, “Johan...how could you?”

Journal, in that moment I realized, in that spark of humanity, I couldn’t let that man die. he also had a life. He had a family. He wanted to let us go. 

So, with a quick pull of a trigger, I shot Johan. In the head.

Hans then screamed and cried more, “No, no, how could you?”

“But..he was…?”

“He was my best friend,” Hans hissed.

“Lance, we got to go,” Keith tugged.

“But!”

“Now, Lance.”

So we ran out, met up with Pidge and Hunk, and went back to base camp. It was in an old run-down building for the night.

“I don’t understand,” I cried, “I saved his life and still..I just...I…”

“You did the right thing,” Hunk patted my back, “It was hard, but the right thing.”

“War isn’t always right or wrong, Lance,” Shiro said, “We may never know the right thing to do. We can’t dwell on it.”

“Yes, and you’re needed alive as Paladins,” Coran joked, “You both got out of there alive, and that’s all that matters.”

“Though, next time, Keith,” Allura interjected, “Maybe don’t kill the commander in front of the whole army.”

“You got it, Boss,” Keith teased.

And everyone tried to lighten the mood again but I just wasn’t feeling it, and decided to come and write everything down.

It’s just not fair. Nothing I ever can do is right. We kill one bad guy, civilians get hurt, we don’t kill anyone, people get hurt. The whole weight of everything sucks. I hate this. I hate this so goddamn much.

I want to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the lack of updates! There was just a lot going on. There was NYCC, i got the flu, it was just a mess. 
> 
> But i am here! And three more chapters left! (one's short, but still counts!)
> 
> Come bother me here or on tumblr --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


	13. The Planners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> We have gotten word from the Allies. There’s going to be a sneak attack on the beaches of France. It’ll be big, and will apparently change the tide of the war.

Dear Journal, April 20, 1944

 

We have gotten word from the Allies. There’s going to be a sneak attack on the beaches of France. It’ll be big, and will apparently change the tide of the war. 

We’re planning to do the same when we meet Zarkon.

In one month we’ll be close to Zarkon. Close enough to finally strike him down. If we can do it the same time as the Allies invade, we can maybe stop the expansion of the Galra and start really quelling them for good. 

But we’re making progress. We’re in Germany, trying to get to Alsace-Lorraine. Apparently Zarkon has been on the border of Germany and France so he could be closer to his troops. Or something like that. 

We found some kittens yesterday in a barn we were all hiding in. We each named one and have been taking care of them to kill time. We’re not allowed to do anything before the plans are solidified. 

I named my kitten Azul. Keith named his Red. We are not very creative.

I want to take Azul with me. But Keith and Shiro are refusing, saying it would be too dangerous for the kittens.

Hunk paid one of the younger Marmora--who Kolivan has been trying to keep safe and out of the way--to carry his kitten, Yellow, to Shay. He left yesterday, and now we wait to see if Shay and the others are ok. The Marmora boy can be trusted, and loved the kitten, so Hunk and I are hoping for the best. If all works out with sending Yellow, Pidge is gonna send Green to Matt. She says he will need company in Berlin.

I was trying to figure out a way that maybe I could send Azul home. Keith just laughed at me and said there was no way Azul would like to take a boat to America.

He’s right, of course, but one can still dream.

Anita will be having the baby in a month or so now. Maybe less. Timing is weird when it comes to babies.

I’m sad I won’t be there for the birth, but i’m sure my brother-in-law is feeling worse. He’s still in London, ducking for cover on the hour, so Mama says.

Papa has been working hard to try and support everyone. Mama is worried he will work himself to death.

And Marco...well...we haven’t really heard from him. We’re all very, very worried.

 

\- Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more to go after this. Ok ok ok. We got this
> 
> read, comment, enjoy!


	14. The Calm Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal, 
> 
> Tomorrow we attack Zarkon and his base.

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                          June 5, 1944

 

Tomorrow we attack Zarkon and his base.  I’m nervous, scared, angry, and just...tired.

Very tired.

Once, when I was still little, a rip tide had taken me far out. Because we lived on the beach. and Mama was always terrified of the water taking us, I knew to swim parallel to the shore and not fight the current. But it was exhausting. I waited, and then swam as fast as I could and at one point I just remember floating. Floating on my back and wondering where the current would take me. 

Eventually Marco had come and rescued me. But this is what war feels like. Everyday, you try to swim parallel to the shore, only to drift further away from what you want. And eventually you’re left floating on your back, and wondering how you got here and where this is all leading to. 

Anyway, speaking of Marco, I’ve just learned that he is on one of the ships going to one of the beaches in France (which beach is classified. Because military or whatever). And I only know that much from begging Allura to find him for me. And now I’m just praying this is a success. That everything is a success and everyone is ok and we can go home.

Keith and I have been whispering to each other every night, and Keith has even prayed with me before bed. I know he doesn’t really have faith, but it makes us feel better. And I know when we’re on our knees, hands up and folded together, that he is looking at me. It’s actualy really sweet, and it feels nice.

Azul and Red did end up coming with us, if only because Allura wanted Shiro’s kitten--Kuro--to come with us. Mostly cause Shiro gifted his kitten to her. Coran says it’s a courting ritual but who knows with those two.

(I wonder if I exchanged Azul for Red, and vice versa, would that count like rings? How would we even bring them back to the states? I’m thinking too ahead...but that’d be really really cute to see Keith playing with the kittens.)

Oh! and one more thing, Anita had a girl. She’s naming her Hope, because she’s sappy and is hopeful the war will end soon. Which, I think we can all use some hope, so no complaints here.

I wish I could see my new niece. I can’t want to give her so many presents and spoil her rotten. I’m gonna give her all the military-issued chocolate when I can. I’m gonna be the best Tio to her.

Wish us luck, 

 Tio Lance

(Doesn’t that sound awesome!?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! And i'm going to post today, because i've been dragging my feet since the dawn of man! 
> 
> Read, Comment, enjoy!


	15. The Last Stand (Sorta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Journal
> 
> D-day took place on the 6th. It took a few days, but we managed to secure the coast. There were also heavy casualties, lots of blood (so I heard), and tears

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                   June 10, 1944

 

D-day took place on the 6th. It took a few days, but we managed to secure the coast. There were also heavy casualties, lots of blood (so I heard), and tears. But I don’t expect much less anymore.

We killed Zarkon, after a heavy battle. 

Pidge and Hunk bombed the headquarters,  Keith and I were staving off wave after wave of soldiers, and Shiro and Zarkon sparred hand to hand and Shiro’s Galra arm, the arm the Galra “gifted” him with, was the final blow that killed the old man.

If this was movie, or a story, I think Shiro would be the hero and the rest of us like really cool back up. Allura would be the love interest, of course. Like Ilsa from Casablanca. Would that make me the comedy? I’d be ok with that. I don’t think I’d want to be the main character in a war story. Not anymore, at least. Not when Heros have to lose so much to win. I think we’ve all lost enough. 

Pidge actually decided it was better to blow up the whole building. Leaving no paper trail of the Galra. 

Which is all fine and well, until we have learned that there might be a second hidden base where Zarkon’s son, Lotor, will probably be taking over.

Nothing is ever over, is it?

And I would write everything down as to what happened, with all the cool details but...I can’t.  I literally can’t remember what happened towards the end. I think I remember holding Keith and kissing him, and Keith laughing, but everything else is just...blood and screaming and guts and darkness. 

I asked Shiro about it -- about what happened after wave after wave of soldiers -- and he just shook his head. 

“Lance, it’s called Combat Stress Reaction.”

“You mean Shell Shock?” I hissed, like it was the plague.

Which...when Papa had described it, it was. He said during the Great War (does that make this the Second Great War?) so many soldiers came back with Shell Shock and it was sickening and scary to watch someone fall apart.

“Well, sort of,” Shiro sighed, “It’s normal, Lance. But you and Keith should talk about this. It’s not going to go away. It’ll linger for a long...long time,” he looked decades older in that moment. Bags under his eyes, a slight twitch in his posture, white hairs sticking out. 

But instead of asking out loud if Shiro was having problems, I just nodded and...walked away.

And yet….

I’m so, so happy that we won, and we’re going to continue winning, and that we’re all alive and well and stuff.

But I have just been informed that Marco has lost the use of his legs. 

He’s alive, but he’s in terrible pain and being sent home. Mama and Papa will have to take care of him, and Anita, and Hope, and I’m here still fighting. 

At least Keith is here. And Hunk and Pidge and Shiro, and Allura, and Coran.

Together, we can do anything. We’re gonna win. We’re gonna save everyone, and Hunk’s gonna live happily ever after with Shay and everything’s going to be ok. 

Can you believe it’s almost been a year since this whole journey started?

Yours and forever ,

Lance “Blue Paladin” Sanchez-McClain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! or...sorta
> 
> If you guys want (and like, tell me), I can write a sequel. But I stopped here because I felt it right that it was one full year of battle.   
>  ...I also wrote this before season 4. so...there's that. 
> 
> This is also the first long fanfic I have EVER finished. Ever. So thanks for joining me for the ride! 
> 
> Read, comment, enjoy! (Hit me up on tumblr --> jesswithane.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so i've been working on this for months now, and this is like my longest fic to date. Some of the language will be strong, heads up. Also, some of the information is accurate...some of it not as much.
> 
> (If Curious, message me for Private Snafu shorts! They are bizzare and funny, and made by warner brothers!)
> 
> I do have art, but I'll link it soon as I can. And I hope to update every day. Or as soon as I can. 
> 
> Bother me on tumblr! --> jesswithane.tumblr.com


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